


and the dreams we had

by Thatsjustprime



Category: Justice League International (Comics)
Genre: Drabbles, M/M, honestly fight me, i am going to post my rp drabbles like absolute trash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 08:04:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatsjustprime/pseuds/Thatsjustprime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles written over at my rp blog on tumblr, telepathyandoreos. Mostly Max/J'onn, but I'll add more tags if/when they apply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. sweet dreams, clementine

**Author's Note:**

> just a cute cuddling in bed drabble, for now.

The sleeping form that J’onn’s somehow managed to wrap around completely snores quietly, shifting from time to time. J’onn smiled, lips pressed into brown hair and his arms wrapped around a bare waist. It was one of the advantages of him being so unusually tall—he could feel as much of Max was possible, all at once.

And if he listened well enough, he could hear the steady thump of his lover’s heartbeat underneath the quiet snuffles and mumbles.

J’onn closed his eyes, slipping back into a restful state. Max would have no choice but to sleep in today.

It was a weekend, after all. And J’onn was quite content at home.

 


	2. emotions come (i don't know why)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the dichotomy between emotions and the people willing to share them

J’onn thinks about  _emotion._ How much he feels, at any given moment, is more than anyone will know. On the surface, he is serenity, a calm surface of faintly rippling water that occasionally has a drop or two of disturbances. Everyone assumes he is  _stoic_ and  _unfeeling_ , even the ones he is close to, because of his nature.

Underneath that calm surface, though, J’onn is a  _storm._  He can feel  _everything_ of those around him, even if he tries his best not to, he can  _hear_ loud thoughts without even noticing he’s lost control. It takes  _so_ _much effort_ to block everything out when he wants so desperately to let it in, let this sea of voices fill the gap that his race has left behind.

He wants to be whole again.

But it is not his place to let these people in, and while he would see it as a blessing, they would see it as an  _invasion_ of privacy. They do not share their thoughts with others, their feelings openly, but rather hide them away, holding them close to themselves. They  _fear_ openness, humans, and even his friends are paranoid of his abilities on some occasions. 

There is no-one to let him in, and even in a sea of comrades, of family, J’onn feels more alone than ever. 

He misses the songs of his people, how they would throw their voices and their thoughts into the sky, a whole race joining as one as they danced under the open stars. He misses the sense of belonging, the sense of true purpose that the dance gave. He misses home, but  _Earth_ is his home now. 

There are some things that the others will  _never_ understand.


	3. you see beauty where others will not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trust is the most frightening thing that love holds.

Probably the most terrifying moment of loving Max is when J’onn shows his true form to the man for the first time. None of the other leaguers are there, it’s just the two of them, and J’onn feels  _safe_ in a way that  frightens him. Like the security could disappear during any moment, that perhaps this was all just a grand mistake that he’s making and not truly love. 

It’s different, it’s not like the rest of the League where he loves them like  _family,_ feels casual enough around them to show a part of himself like a parent. Here, it’s intimate in a different way.  Some thing closer and so bright, like the flames he’s feared so much. Like if he gets to close he’ll  _burn_ up and there’ll be nothing left.

But Max, to his part, is there with a gentle smile that’s..unusual on the man, and he reaches out to grasp J’onn’s larger hand in both of his. Its enough to make J’onn want to tip over the edge into that bright burning flame. 

The man, his friend, his.. his lover, now, watches in awe as J’onn shifts to his natural form, looks at him like J’onn is the most beautiful thing in the galaxy and beyond.

J’onn’s never felt  _beautiful_ before.

And that’s what seals it for J’onn. The fact that Max can look at him and see not an offworlder, not a frightening beast, not a strange creature, but someone to be loved. His heart flutters in that moment, soaring in heights he hasn’t felt since M’yri’ah joined H’ronmeer’s dance.

As their hands clasp tight, J’onn gently taps his forehead against Max’s, and the two share a tender kiss.

And J’onn is home.


	4. im just a fool, a fool in love with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> isn't it supposed to be dramatic and planet shattering, love?

J’onn’s fallen in love before. He knows how it feels, like something that moves planets and breaks the stars and makes you feel so,  _so_ complete. 

At least, that’s how it’s  _supposed_  to feel. With Max, it’s different. With Max, it’s comfort. Familiarity. The casual moments. Oddly enough, sometimes he can swear he knows Max more than he knows himself, not even through Telepathic means. 

No, J’onn watches Max, often for so long that he loses track. Never without him knowing, of course. Never without him consenting to such a brutal intensity in his gaze. 

J’onn never understands what makes it work so well. Perhaps the fact that Max feels…Safe, in a way. His arms are always open, and he’s always a polite listener, even prefers silence. 

And Max feels right. J’onn can  _trust_  him. Trust him with things that he would trust no other, and for a man like J’onn.. It’s a relief. 

When they are together, alone, it’s about as often in silence as it is in small conversations. Others would insist on speaking to pass the time, but Max  _gets_ it. And J’onn is so, so relieved.


	5. sick day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> who said martians can't get ill?

 

"It is odd," J’onn’s voice was weak and rough, "I would have assumed that this strain of this Martian virus was extinct." At this point, he had been too feeble to move far distances, let alone fly. Even his telepathic abilities seemed to have suffered. He had shifted back to his natural form to conserve energy, and was currently bundled under several layers of blankets, looking rather small for his usual height of seven feet. "One wonders how I have contracted it. Ah, perhaps from one of my artefacts from my collection."

"I’m sorry you’re sick, J’onn." Max frowned, pressing a gentle kiss to his lover’s forhead. "And you’re sure this isn’t serious?" Max had been blessedly patient with the whole endeavor, helping J’onn get comfortable and soothing his worries with gentle touches and quiet murmurs of reassurance.

"Oh, most certainly not. But it is an inconvenience. I do not think I will be mobile for a few days, at least." J’onn frowned slightly at the prospect, shifting a little. "Do you think the League will be well without me? I do worry so."

Max held a firm hand on J’onn’s shoulder in response, pushing him down, and kissed him again. “Don’t worry, Dear. They’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it. In fact, I’ll go check on them right this instant.”

J’onn nodded, still weak, and leaned his head into Max’s in a gentle nuzzling motion. He watched Max depart with a slight sleepy smile, gently drifting off into a deep sleep.

Max, as soon as he exited the room, squared his shoulders and gave his best death glare towards the curious JLI members waiting just outside. “J’onn’s resting. Don’t disturb him, and don’t start any trouble or I swear I will have all of your heads framed and hung on my wall. Especially you two,” He gave an especially searing gaze to Ted and Booster, arms crossing. “I mean it.”


	6. i see you there, out of reach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> of meditation and letting go.

_Drifting. J’onn is drifting. Through life and death, dreams and reality. It’s quite easy to lose himself, and part of him wants to, wants to let the silence of it all take him apart and absorb him piece by piece. The spirits he feels invite him softly, gentle voices calling from far off—friendly. But he cannot answer._

_Because it is not his time. But he can observe, always observe. The beauty of this place between life and death is too much to describe with words—at least, not to accuracy. Colors and smells and sights and sounds and sensations blend into one solid sense, overwhelming and wonderful and terrible all at once. It’s almost too much, too much for J’onn to handle but he knows he’s been working up into this point. To be here. To be… in this place._

_Never to answer, never to join, but to watch._

_Green forms dance and sing in the background, surrounded by an eternal flame of warm embrace. They touch the flames, and they do not burn, and the flames in turn wrap up and wind up and around and through them as they laugh and laugh and laugh.  
_

_J’onn watches for moments more, before he returns to himself, his physical form. Much longer and he would have died._


	7. these are the days of our lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> J'onn/M'yri'ah/Max ot3, with their kids still alive AU. It's... it's cute, okay??

Max has grown used to waking up in a sea of green. M’yri’ah to his left, J’onn to his right, and two small forms piled across the three of them in a sort of living blanket position. He can hardly complain, because he’s warm, and feeling M’yri’ah’s face pressed into his neck and J’onn’s arm thrown over his chest makes everything warm and cozy. He’s too sleep-riddled and hazy to care about the time, even if he’ll be late for work—

Max is late for work. A slight groan escapes from his lips as he hauls himself into a sitting position, or at least— attempts to do so. The iron grip of J’onn’s arm is preventing him from moving, and he’s about to speak when two sets of lips start kissing either side of his face, trailing down to his neck. A sort of lazy thought rolls into his head from J’onn, a slightly cross one from one of his daughters, and an amused noise from M’yri’ah.

Time for work? She asks, mentally still as if the effort of speaking is not to be bothered with. She fiddles with his hair slightly as she does so, humming to herself.

I’m late, Dear. Max replies, taking a slightly relieved breath as J’onn lifts his arm with a sigh. I have to go. Are you coming, J’onn?

Perhaps. J’onn joins in, slightly less hazy. He slithers out of bed, scooping up a daughter under either arm (much to their combined chagrin) and carries them both back to their own room, depositing them back in their beds. Aloud, he announces that today is a school day, and that the two of them ought to be ready in twenty minutes.

M’yri’ah was considering taking my place for the time being while I spend some time with the girls. I think I would like that. He plods back in, shifting from his natural form into a more human one, and smiles slightly. And I promised I would walk them to school today.

Of course you did. M’yri’ah, are you sure—?

There’s a definite note of resolution in her one-word response, even if it is telepathic. Yes.

She climbs out of bed, shifting to look like J’onn while he’s doing his hero work, and the likeness is eerie. You’d think Max would be used to shape-shifting around this household by now, but no. Some things still throw him off-balance.

Max has to catch up to get ready and out the door at the same time as the girls, giving them each a quick kiss on the forehead and a hug. Following M’yri’ah out the door, he presses one last lingering kiss to J’onn (J’onn and M’yri’ah had their goodbye kiss earlier) , and gets ready for another day of madness at the Embassy.

Life is good.


	8. Saturday Morning, September 21st.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an autumn's day of obvservation

There are countless joys on Earth, innumerable sorrows. Emotions buzz like little bees in colorful swathes of dancing minds, each contained to it’s own little human body and brain, but each beautiful and memorable and so unlike the others around it. Some are dark, some are light. Some bear the scars of a soldier. Some are young and new, untouched by the hardships of living while others are old and wise, keen and sharp-witted.

There are so many beautiful, individual minds on Earth, so many to watch and feel and listen to as background noise. For J’onn, cutting himself out of that immense pleasure of being part of a larger whole is..difficult, but with meditation, mental isolation becomes an easier goal to reach with every attempt. Not for long, never for long, because as much as J’onn loves his privacy, he fears beingal alone above all else.

Being ripped away from another homeworld would no doubt break the martian, losing all of his loved ones that he found dear to his heart on Earth. He shivers at the thought, pretending it’s the stiff november breeze. Cold doesn’t bother him, but the people walking around this park don’t need to know that. He watches the crowd, gloved fingers nursing a piping coffee that he’s managzed to keep toasty with his heat vision, thankful for doing so without burning something.

A smile twitches at his lips as the disguised martian watched two little figures chase each-other towards a pile of leaves.

 


End file.
